Prayer is the lamp of our hearts

This essay first appeared in our weekly Scripture reflection newsletter on November 30, 2024.

It always surprises me when the Gospel reading for the start of the liturgical year—the First Sunday of Advent—is not the story of John the Baptist. (This year, that narrative arrives next Sunday.) Instead, this week we read an apocalyptic passage that you might associate more with the end of the liturgical year, that is, last Sunday. And on first glance, it’s pretty dark.

Jesus speaks of people in dismay, dying of fright, “in anticipation of what is coming upon the world.” In other words, people will be so frightened that they will drop dead. Hardly a cheerful thought to think about when lighting the first candle of your beautiful new Advent wreath! 

But it’s a necessary thought. Because Jesus is telling his disciples, and us, about preparing for the end times, whenever they might come. And, ultimately, it’s a hopeful thought.

In his Sacra Pagina commentary, Luke Timothy Johnson reminds us that Luke’s Gospel has probably shaped this narrative so that Jesus’s words can be seen by the reader as “having already been fulfilled,” first in the persecution of first-century Christians, and second in the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem, which occurred in 70 A.D., roughly 15 years before Luke wrote his Gospel.

But Jesus’ main point is the coming of the “Son of Man,” which could be understood either as the Second Coming of Christ or the end of a person’s life, when he or she will encounter Christ.

 So far this does still not seem like a joyful Advent reading! But in the end, it is definitely good news. Because for those who remain “vigilant” and who do not “become drowsy,” not only from drunkenness and carousing but from the “anxieties of daily life” (a kind of moral stupor), there will be vindication. In other words, for those who remain resolute, the end times or the end of our lives are nothing to fear. Instead, they are a source of joy and redemption. 

But what enables us, in the face of the “tribulations” we face—whether it’s anxiety over our families, our jobs, our health, our politics or our church—not to grow drowsy? LGBTQ people, who in many parts of the world are in “dismay,” fearful for their safety, might also wonder where to find solace. How can Advent be a time to “raise our heads,” as Jesus tells his disciples?

One answer comes from Pope Francis, who has a wonderful insight on this reading. “Prayer is what keeps the lamp of our heart lit. This is especially true when we feel that our enthusiasm has cooled down. Prayer re-lights it because it brings us back to God, the center of things.”

That may sound like prayer is an instant panacea for anxiety, as if all you have to do is close your eyes, pray and your worries will instantly disappear. In his superb book Sacred Fire, Ronald Rolheiser, O.M.I., admits that sometimes when he prays during a crisis, he can tend, like many of us, to become more focused on himself. “When we are hurting or obsessed, the problem is that we are able to think about only one thing, the object of our hurt or loss.” That can focus us even more on our problems. What is needed in these difficult times, says Rolheiser, is to focus on God instead.

Advent is the perfect time to do this, that is, to pray more. To take time with the Gospel readings, to imagine yourself speaking with Jesus, to meditate on a single word in the Daily Readings. Or simply to rest in God’s presence. Before you light the Advent candle, light the lamp of your heart with prayer.